Sparks from the Anvil

Illuminating the untempered soul and the blunt mind by hammering out sparks of Clarity and Truth on the Anvil of Debate.

"Sometimes, you go to war with the media you have, not the media you wish you had"
-Wordsmith

Saturday, September 11, 2010

Johnny Spann stood in gently falling snow and wistfully recalled the day his son, CIA officer Johnny Micheal "Mike" Spann, lingered among the tombstones at Arlington National Cemetery, studying each inscription and testing his sister Tanya's patience.

Sunday, September 05, 2010

Mohammed

A teenage Iraqi interpreter, code name "Roy," served with a reconnaisance platoon in Iraq in 2007. (Blake Hall)

Iraq war critic, Thomas Ricks, links to a WaPo story by retired Army captain Blake Hall that tells a different perspective on the narrative of the war:

"One day the Qaeda came to my school. They say, 'You are not students anymore! Put away your books! Now we show you the path of jihad!' My two best friends say to them, 'We are students trying to learn. We don't want to do the jihad.' "

"And then?"

Roy gave me a wan smile. "Then, they gather the school in one place, they kneel them down, and they cut their heads with the knife."

"They beheaded your two best friends, Roy?"

"Yes, sir. I walk to the base the next day and give them my name to work for you. I hate the Qaeda."

Read the whole piece. You won't understand the title of this post until you do. (And here is the NYTimes article referenced toward the end of Hall's op-ed).

One of my favorite excerpts:

* * *

Roy and I were sitting on a smooth concrete floor with our backs against a concrete wall. We were with one of my sniper teams in an apartment overlooking a four-way intersection. I was thinking about the course of the war, from the early days of the invasion in 2003, when the Iraqis seemed overjoyed and the giant statue of Saddam Hussein toppled, to the most violent days of the insurgency. I wasn't sure what to make of the shift.

"Roy, did most of the Iraqis always hate us?" I asked.

"No, sir. When the Americans first came, everyone was very happy."

"And now?" I asked.

Roy shrugged.

"How do we fix Iraq, Roy?"

"Nuke it, sir."

The snipers and I laughed.

"But Roy, your mom and your family is in Baghdad. You can't seriously think nuking Iraq is the answer."

"Sir, the only way to fix Iraq is to nuke it."

"You've been hanging out with the guys too long, Roy."

"Wehl alraght." [picked up the Kentucky accent from Hall's driver, as relayed earlier in the article- ws]